


I Would Follow You Everywhere

by fuckuharold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Fingering, Hair Kink, Hairdresser! Louis, M/M, Smut, Top Harry, and a bit of a story, blowjob, just sex in a hair salon really, singer! harry, with his own hair salon and all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3262973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckuharold/pseuds/fuckuharold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Louis is a hairdresser with a kink for beautiful hair and Harry is his costumer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Follow You Everywhere

Louis knew his obsession wasn’t normal. It wasn’t his fault though, he didn’t choose it. When he was younger, he came across a magazine and the pictures had triggered something deep inside him. He could feel it in his guts, from head to toes. The obsession only became bigger and bigger through the years and Louis didn’t only need to see. He needed to touch, tug and play with it.

Louis even changed his degree in the middle of the school year and decided that being a drama teacher wasn’t what he wanted to do the most finally. He couldn’t hide his weird addiction. He needed to work with it. Louis didn’t like clichés but being gay  _and_  a hairdresser was probably the cherry on the cake. Despite everything he couldn’t help it.

Louis had a weird kink for hair.

 *

Working with ladies was hard.

Sure, it was better than working with men only (testosterone in fact stunk) but it wasn’t any easier. People tended to think that when you were gay you loved girly things but that was complete bullshit. Of course Louis loved romance movies and cried when he watched Twilight but frankly who wouldn’t? Having to choose between a werewolf and a vampire was way more difficult than people liked to think.

However knowing what nail polish brand was the best and what eye shadow brought out the color of his eyes was really close to fucking pointless to Louis. He was a manly gay okay, the kind of lad who loved playing soccer, video games and eating pizzas. He didn't clean his flat, never cooked and certainly didn't have time for a cute relationship (something his colleagues loved to bother him with).

He loved being alone in his mess of a life.

Thankfully Louis got his job and even if he liked to complain about the girls working with him, he would never change a single thing.

Lou Teasdale and him had opened a hair salon about two years ago, right after graduation. She was twenty-six now, wife of a super cool and tattooed guy named Tom and mother of a lovely little girl called Lux. Louis, was still the exact same, except maybe for the fact that it was harder to breathe when he was running because no matter what people said, twenty-five was really fucking old, thank you very much.

At the time, they both had named the place ‘The Two L’ because they were young, lost and both had a degree that didn’t allow lots of possibilities except of becoming a hairdresser, obviously. They clearly didn't have time to come up with something better but they got used to it and eventually never changed.

Besides, they got lucky. With Lou and Louis as names, they could have came up with something like ‘Lou Lou’ so really Louis thought they made the right decision here.

 

The hair salon in itself wasn't that big but it was cozy enough, friendly and people loved to come here simply because they felt at ease.

This was what they wanted to do with the place, Lou and Louis wanted people to love the place, to talk to each other and to laugh while they were getting a haircut. They got lots of regular with time and most of the time, those people were only coming for a shampoo because they simply wanted to have a good time.

Over two years the salon gained more and more notoriety and some celebrities had already came, something Louis liked to brag about more than necessary. The actress Emma Watson, the singer Ellie Goulding and more often than not Niall Horan had all sign Louis’ notebook and he was damn proud of that.

Speaking of Niall Horan, this lad was a delight. Arrived from Ireland when he was barely sixteen to become a singer, he decided to become a chef after losing the competition. After only a few years, he managed to build himself an impressive career and now owned two restaurants in London. Most importantly though, he gained an amazing friendship with Louis. Once again, Louis was damn proud of that.

 *

Just like every morning, Louis was late, and even if he liked to think it wasn’t his fault, it totally was. His alarm usually went off at 7am but being the laziest arse on Earth, he liked to stay in bed until he really had no other choice and needed to leave for work. In the ten minutes left, Louis had to brush his teeth, comb his hair, pick an outfit, get dressed and grab a granola bar. No need to say he was always late.

And yes, it was definitely his fault.

Luckily for him, Louis didn’t live that far away from the hair salon and if he managed well enough, he could be there in about five minutes. Sometimes three if he was extremely late, sometimes ten if he was feeling extremely lazy. The latter would actually happen more often than not but after all, Louis was only human and most importantly, he was his own boss. No one could sue him.

This morning though, for the first time in about twenty-five years, Louis did wake up on time. It was just one of these days where everything went wrong.

His alarm went off at 7am and after barely getting any sleep during the night, Louis figured he could get up already, it wasn’t like he was going to fall back asleep and dream about hot, toned and naked men. He sighed loudly, but got up anyway.

He then figured that when you were lacking many hours of sleep, making tea turned out to be way more difficult than usual. He hissed in pain, his hand looking red and swollen because of the hot water he just received on it and bit his tongue not to cry. Yes his hands were his working tools but he was a manly and rugged guy for fuck’s sake.

In addition of that, because really when a day was starting the wrong way, the whole world seemed to be against you, it was raining. And of fucking course Louis no longer had an umbrella because some weird kid stole his on the bus station the last time he went home.  _Welcome back to Doncaster Louis._ Louis hated going home.

Today was a shit day and it was only 7:30am. How the day would be long.

When Louis finally arrived at work, his mood had reached a whole new level of grumpiness and all he could think about was his bed waiting for him.

But since someone was like  _really_  mad at him, Lou couldn’t come to work today because his daughter Lux had a bad flu. This kid was a proper cutie, only four with an already tough character. Louis loved her lots. Except maybe right now though because today wasn’t the day for miss Luxie to have a flu. Louis was already tired and now he was alone in his misery.

No one to hear him complain about his problems. Life was tough.

 

It was around eleven when Louis’ last scheduled client for the morning left.

He was now even more exhausted than before, his back ached because of all the standing and his burnt hand wasn’t getting any better. The gloves he was wearing for coloring weren’t made for cutting hair so he had to deal with the hot water ruining on his sore hand when he washed hair and the warm air blowing on his burn when he used the hair-dryer.

No need to say, Louis Tomlinson was as delighted as ever.

After a quick lunch, Louis was bent in two, collecting hair in the dustpan, when the jingles above the door bell, letting him know someone just arrived. What a lovely view to attract customers he thought in all seriousness. His ass was quite amazing, fight him for stating the truth.

"Excuse me Sir."

The guy, or man actually, standing at the front of Louis' salon was most definitely in his early forties. He was wearing a black suit, his hair was put into a small quiff and Louis’ mind was currently screaming at the guy. Hair gel was the absolute worst. The texture was bloody awful at the touch and for someone like him, touch was everything. He had to be able to feel the hair fiber with his fingertips, to be able to feel the thickness of one single hair. To be able to-

"...with privacy of course."

"I'm sorry what did you just say?"

That was one of the main problem with Louis, he had no manners and couldn’t seem to hold a conversation. Once he was thinking about hair it was frankly near impossible to stop him. The whole world around me would disappear in an instant.

"I'm the bodyguard of Mr Styles and he heard about you and your work. He wanted to get a haircut and see by himself if your notoriety was well deserved. With his important statue I was wondering if you would accept to take care of him in complete privacy."

"Who's this guy? A Hollywood actor? Rich people I swear. He doesn’t want people to know his hair isn’t naturally beautiful?"

"Mr Styles is an English singer."

"A singer? Never heard of him. Must be one of those wannabe every teenage girl loves. My sisters would probably know him. Anyway, bring him in. I'll close the curtains and call my clients to cancel their appointments.”

“Thank you very much.”

“No problem. Just hope the tip will be worthy.”

*

"Fuck. I can’t believe this. So so pretty. The texture. This must be a dream. They're so-”

"Hey mate? Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Louis replied, eyes wide, startle.

"I asked you if you were alright. You kind of just stopped talking mid sentence and started to...well actually I don't know what you started to do. You just massaged my scalp or something."

"Did I? Funny that. Yep, right, anyway. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“What do you want me to do with your hair?"

_please don't cut it, please don't cut it, please don't cut it_

"I actually don't want to cut it." Louis sighed in relief. Probably loud enough for the guy to hear. Probably loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear actually. "As you can see it's getting pretty long and I'm just worried about its health you know. Being on tour most of the time I don't really have time to take care of it properly. And well I love my hair, obviously, so I wouldn't want to go bald at thirty."

"I wouldn't have anything to tug at otherwise that would be a shame."

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh nothing. Long day. So, you should probably apply a fortifying hair mask once a week, or oil even."

"Oil? Like olive oil?"

"More like argon oil. Or even castor oil if you can find some. It would be great for the strength of the fiber and it would amplify brilliance. You apply it on the lengths, quite generously, but never on the roots okay. It's a really fat substance and as you said, we wouldn’t want you to go bald so don’t make me cut your hair. Then, make at least two shampoos to rinse it all."

"Yeah okay I can do that."

"If you don't have a lot of time during the day because of your busy routine or if you have interviews or some popstar shit, you can sleep with the oil on your hair and do your shampoos when you wake up. Do you often tie your hair? It's pretty long so I suppose you do."

"Yeah when I'm working out."

"How do you tie it?"

"I do a bun most of the time or tie a scarf around my head."

_hispter Louis scoffed mentally._

"I also had some braids once."

_now i'm listening_

"Braids?"

"Yeah two little braids on each side. It was quite pretty actually."

"I can imagine. So about the bun, do not tie it too tight and it would be better if it wasn't too high on your head. It can weaken the fiber."

"Sure. Do you think I could let it grow even more?"

_yes yes yes_

_even more hair to pull at, to braid and to comb. fuck yeah._

_let it grow, let it groooow_

_get a fucking grip Tomlinson._

"You totally could. I suppose you want to so why not?"

"It's just, isn't just too feminine? Do you think it would look great on me? Be honest please."

For the first time since that famous Mr Styles came in, Louis really took a look at the guy in front of him. He couldn't properly see all the details of his skin or the exact shade of his green eyes -because no matter what people said, looking at someone through a mirror wasn’t subtle _at all,_ so Louis couldn’t really stare for too long, but he could at least conclude one thing: that guy was fucking handsome _._

His face looked soft and his jawline was literally built in marble, very angular and prominent. His eyes were a bit too big and too round for his face but their color was simply breathtaking. Louis, proper sucker for green eyes since childhood he was. The guy’s nose was cute even if his nostrils were maybe a bit too large, but all in all it worked. And his lips. Well, to say the least, his lips were simply perfect. Pink and fleshy, begging to be kissed.

No more, no less.

The popstar was apparently afraid his hair might be too long to be considered masculine but his face was already quite feminine anyway. It obviously wasn’t a bad thing, the guy was an absolute darling. A mix between a cherub and guy who could probably hold you against a wall. The guy was so tall and broad, Louis had goosebumps. But yes, even if he was definitely prettier than most of the guys Louis ever met, Mr Styles was definitely virile. The long hair would complete the look perfectly.

"I think you'll be just fine with longer hair."

"Oh god thank you! I was actually worried because you took your time to reply.”

"Well excuse me for taking my time to look at you properly. The question was apparently vital for you so I needed to give an appropriate answer. You got the face for the long hair. You have great hair. Let it grow." 

_and I’m in love with you and your hair, let me play with it._

"But?"

"How did you know there will be a ‘but’?"

"There's always one."

"Fair enough."

"So?"

"But. I might have to cut it a bit if you want to grow it more so your hair can stay as pretty and healthy as it is now. Growing hair can weaken the fiber and make it become dull and thinner if you don't take great care of it."

"So you have to cut it a bit to let it grow even more?"

"Yep."

"Okay do it."

"I thought you loved your hair and didn't want to lose your pretty curls?"

"But it will be even prettier and longer after, it's a win-win situation."

"Okay then, come with me. Time for a shampoo."

Washing the singer's hair was probably the worst and better thing Louis ever had to do. Touching this amazing piece of art was all he could have ever dreamed of. He took his time doing so, running his fingers through it and massaging his scalp with a care he definitely didn’t use usually.

Louis was currently in heaven and for the first time since he woke up, he was seeing the day as a good one. He was almost happy that Lou couldn’t come this morning because he could have missed the opportunity to have the popstar as a client. And that would have been a shame.

The only problem now was that the guy’s hair was even more perfect once it was wet. His curls were all over the place and Louis couldn't help but touch it once again. Until then the popstar was still oblivious and didn't seem to notice Louis was taking longer than usual and he was so damn thankful for that.

He also was grateful this attractive creature had such beautiful hair and decided to come in here, in his tiny little hair salon.

 

Back in the main room, it was time to trim the guy’s hair and Louis wasn’t sure how to deal with it. His dick started to harden when he was behind the sinks and now that he was going to comb his hair Louis kind of wanted to scream. Or moan. Probably both.

He decided to start a conversation to distract himself.

"So usually I talk to my customers when I cut their hair but it's easier when they're seventy. I ask them about their grandchildren and cats. What can I ask to a popstar?"

"I have a cat."

"Are you sure you're selling arenas?"

"I'm actually selling stadiums.” And after a bit. “Oh my god sorry that sounded quite pretentious. I-I'm sorry."

"No worries popstar. Stadiums though? You're like proper famous."

"Hmm. I don't really like that word though, famous. It's like I'm no longer Harry-"

"Oh Harry, that's your name."

"Yep Harry Edward Styles is the name."

"Styles? Is this a pseudo?"

"No, it’s my birth name. Why?"

"Sick. Proper stage name is all. Anyway, continue."

"So as I was saying, it's like you're no longer you, you're just famous. You're not Harry the guy from Cheshire, you're the famous guy who sells stadiums. Most people don't know me, they think I'm the person media describe. And well, I’m not, I like to think I’m more than just a pretty face you know."

"Then who are you Harry Styles from Cheshire?"

“Well-”

Both of the lads were startled when suddenly loud knocks were heard on the window glass and even if the curtains were closed, it wasn't hard to guess who was on the other side. It all sounded like screaming girls coming here to catch a glimpse of their idol.

"Does this happen a lot?"

"Every time I go out for too long yeah. It mostly happens in England though. That’s probably why I like to spend time in LA when I have some time off, I know I won’t cross path with too many people over there."

"It must be tough. Not being able to do what you want or go where you want to go."

"You get used to it. Besides I'm flattered, fans are ready to do a lot for me and I'm grateful for it every single day. I wouldn't be able to sell out stadiums if it wasn't for their constant dedication and support. If I can make them happy by just stopping by for an autograph I’ll gladly do it."

"Very grounded Styles."

"I try to."

"Shall we continue this haircut?"

"Definitely."

 *

"Mr Styles?"

"What is it John?"

"There are too many of them, I'm afraid it's not safe for you to stay here."

"It's fine don't worry, I'll just say hi when my haircut is done."

"There really is a lot I'm afraid, it can be dangerous for them as well. Some of them are pushing the other to come closer to the door."

"What do you suggest?"

"I suggest you to leave by another door and hopefully they will leave too after a few."

“But my haircut?”

“I’m sure you could come back.”

“Fine. Do you have another door by any chance? Oh what's your name by the way?"

"Louis. Louis Tomlinson. And no I don't, I'm sorry. Just this room and a closet."

"Perfect."

"What is John?"

"You could hide in the closet and once you're in it Mr Louis would open the blinds. The fans would see you left and they will leave as well. You'll be able to stay safe."

"And I'll stay hidden in the closet until everyone's left?"

"That's the plan."

"I'm sure it's not necessary. Besides I can’t ask Louis to do that."

"I am here for your safety Mr Styles."

“Are you okay with doing it?” Harry asked Louis, turning completely in his seat to look up.

“Yep sure, no worries. Always wanted to act, this would be the perfect opportunity.”

"Would that make you happy John?"

"Very."

After a few minutes of discussing the plan supposed to fool the teenage girls, Harry's bodyguard left the hair salon by the front door and made a move to go to his car. The fans started to scream even louder and some of them even followed him. Once Louis was sure the car drove away, he resumed what he was doing and pretended to sweep up the place. When he was close enough to the curtains, he pushed them open.

Louis was immediately confronted to hundreds of wide eyes, searching into the hair salon for something, someone, _anything_. The screaming was loud in Louis’ ears, even through the glass window and he seriously wondered how this could be the daily life of someone. After a few, some of the girls understood Harry was nowhere in sight and started to show their protests by screaming even louder. Louis’ head was hurting like hell.

 _Where is Harry? Why didn't he leave with his bodyguard? Is he okay? Who is this tiny guy? How did Haz even get out? If I knew the guy I could maybe get an autograph._ were some of the questions Louis could understand so he risked a move, trying to make the girls leave. He opened a window and winced at the noise. Who would have thought teenage girls could scream so loud? Not him that's who.

"Sorry ladies. I'm Louis, the hairdresser owning this place and unfortunately your deer popstar left the place just a few moments ago. I got a back door and his bodyguard took the car to go get him. He loves you all so so much and he would have loved to meet you all. Have a good day."

Once again protests were the only words Louis could hear and he quickly closed the window and the curtains back. Quite proud of his act, he decided to let the fans behind, thinking they would leave eventually and headed for the closet.

 *

"You know, if someone would have told me I would spend several hours in a closet with a popstar I would have laughed. Now that it's happening I suppose it's quite cool, I could sell the story."

"Yeah right, like you would do it."

"Are you kidding me? This hair salon is my baby, I could make it big. Like a museum maybe. I should keep some of your hair and never wash that chair you sat on. Teenage girls would go crazy and I'll win lot-"

"Right."

"-and I haven't finished. If I were the journalist writing about this, the headline would be 'Popstar Harry Styles stuck in the closet.’ It would be a bit ambiguous you know."

"And kind of ironic."

"Why?"

"Because I am. Stuck in the closet that is."

"You're gay?"

"Is it that surprising?"

"Well... Not really? Not that it's a bad thing of course, you don't look proper gay or anything. Just yeah it's cool you're not straight."

"And why is that?"

"Why is- Oh well, no reason really. Just saying. Yep."

Louis always wanted to fuck someone (or rather get fucked) in that closet and even if it already happened twice, he needed to be sure this closet wasn't cursed. Both of the guys were great and had big cocks so Louis thought, like the naive and horny boy he once was, that it would be great sex. It sucked each time. To blame something that wasn’t him, Louis decided to blame it on the closet and conclude there was some sort of a curse. He always believed in those magical stuff, so what?

The problem with that fantasy was that wanting to fuck a client with marvelous hair right in this salon was good, but unfortunately, even if in every single movie people would meet and have sex twenty minutes later, it definitely wasn't like that in real life.

One, it was hard to flirt with customers when there were other people around you. Two, being gay sucked because guys didn’t stay as long as women at the hairdresser. Three, when your name was Louis Tomlinson, flirting was basically difficult in every situation.

Louis didn’t do flirting. He tried, he really did, but it was never very conclusive so after a while he just gave up. If a guy was attractive, Louis would whisper in his ear he was hot and simply suck him off a bit later in the restrooms. That technique obviously had flaws since it was only possible in nightclubs. Men were horny bastards who came to get fucked in there, scary at first but when Louis did it right he could go home after a great orgasm.

So yes, Louis would actually love to have a relationship but he was only good at one night stands and had a kink hard to fulfill.

Guys with beautiful hair were rare. _sigh_

Now though, Harry was standing in front of him, all attractiveness, tallness and beautiful hair so Louis couldn't really resist. It was bad to ignore his fate and right now Louis was almost one hundred percent sure destiny was the one responsible of this situation. You didn't get stuck in a closet with someone for no reason, he knew it okay. Harry and Louis had to have sex, it was written somewhere. He was sure of it.

When Louis leaned in, Harry's eyes were dark green, almost already closed and his lips already parted. This was definitely another sign. Fate was good.

Both of their mouths soon started to quickly move together. Harry’s breathing already shattered, noises escaping his lips and Louis took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss and put his tongue in Harry’s mouth. The popstar’s response was immediate, he angled his head on the left and grabbed Louis’ arse with his two really _really_ large hands.

Not being able to wait any longer, Louis lifted his hands up until reaching the nape of Harry’s neck. He gave his hair an experimental tug and earned a groan in reply. If Louis was getting off by touching hair, Harry was apparently getting off when someone was pulling on his.  _Good to know_.

Louis didn’t waste any time after that and tugged once again, harder this time, longer. His cock was rock hard already and if he didn’t get any friction anytime soon he would probably explode.

The singer titled his head back first, gasping for air. His cheeks were flushed, his lips bitten red and his eyes dark with lust. They were glassy and wide and Louis could probably lose himself in them. Harry’s hair was already a mess and curlier than earlier. He was simply gorgeous.

When Harry dropped on his knees, his fingers working fast to unbuckle Louis’ belt and put his jeans and boxers down, he was even more beautiful.

At the moment his lips entered in contact with the head of Louis’ dick, Louis’ hips moved forward without his own accord and Harry had to put his hands on the hairdresser’s hipbones to make him stay still. Making sure Louis would no longer move with a stern look, Harry resumed his previous actions and started to work on Louis’ shaft, allowing his cheeks and wrapping his sinful lips around it.

Saliva was drooling on Harry’s chin, his knees were probably hurting like hell and Louis wouldn’t last long but it was already better than his two previous hook ups in that very same place.

When Louis was close to the edge, he grabbed Harry’s hair tightly and made him tilt his head back to stop sucking at his cock. He wanted this moment to last, he couldn’t come right now.

"C-Can I fuck you? Like here? Right now?" Harry asked then, his voice rough and low.

"Why aren't you already?"

Barely ten seconds later, Louis had two fingers in his mouth, and never had he feel this happy to suck on something. His hard-on was pressed on Harry’s thigh and a rush of excitement and want ran through his body. He sucked eagerly on the singer's fingers until they were wet enough and Harry removed them with a loud pop.

Harry wasted no time before pressing a first digit passed Louis’ ring of muscles and the lad could swear he saw stars behind his eyelids. He threw my head back, arched his back in pleasure and put his legs around Harry’s waist to give him better access to his hole. His heart was beating fast and he was warm all over. It has been way too long since he last had sex and the feeling was exquisite.

Harry was nibbling at the lobe of Louis’ right ear, twisting his left nipple with his free hand while thrusting two fingers into him, hard and quick. The over-stimulation made Louis groan loudly and when Harry slightly changed the angle to hit his prostate he cried out. Harry’s fingers were long and thick, reaching all the right places with barely no effort. They were definitely made to give Louis’ pleasure. _Thank you fate._

"You like that Louis? Being fucked by my fingers?"

"Hmm."

"Answer me Louis."

"Yeah yeah. Oh fuck right there. P-please add another one."

"So needy- Being a good boy for me."

"Oi curly popstar, I'm not into submission and kinky stuff like this, I’m into hair so get on with it already or I might have to fuck myself."

"Curly popstar?"

"That's your name in my head."

"Interesting."

"Styles I swear to g- Oh fuck! Yes yes yes..."

Harry was now three fingers deep in Louis’ arse, thrusting in and out of his already overused hole and hitting his prostate each time. Louis’ regular breathing was long gone, he kept arching his back and the moans escaping his lips could honestly be the ones of a proper pornstar. He was loud but couldn’t really help it, his own body didn’t respond anymore. Harry was fingering Louis in earnest, as if his life was depending on it and Louis was certainly no one to complain.

If Harry’s only purpose in life was to please Louis, he was more than okay with that.

"I-I'm close, so close. Of shit, stop… I-"

Despite Louis’ words, Harry didn’t stop and kept thrusting his fingers. He was whimpering, whispering in Louis’ ears about how good he felt and Louis understood he was close as well.

Hitting Louis’ prostate one last time, Harry cried out as Louis was also coming, untouched. They stilled for a bit, panting and trying to feel their muscles again. Harry’s breath was hot on Louis’ shoulder and Louis was playing with Harry’s hair at the nape of his now sweaty neck.

After a while, the singer stepped back and removed his fingers. Louis winced a bit because he was over sensitive but almost immediately missed the heat of Harry’s inside of him. Louis’ body was tired and his legs were barely able to stay around Harry's middle but he still wanted to get properly fucked by Harry. He _needed_ it.

He wanted to tug at his hair while Harry would pound into me. Wanted to hear him moan every time he would grab a handful of curls. Wanted to be in control, to manhandle him even if he was the one bottoming. Louis wanted to take the lead, his hair being the mean he could use to do so.

"Haz? Do you think you could go for another round?"

"Do you? You look proper fucked. Pun intented."

"Very funny, you're a singer _and_ a comedian."

"I tell jokes during my concerts."

"Are they any good?"

"Not really." At this, Harry pouted like a five year old child, like disappointed he wasn’t that funny despite his huge efforts. Louis could do nothing but kiss him better.

Harry’s response was immediate and he kissed Louis back softly but passionately. His lips still tasting precum from earlier. It was arousing and intoxicating and both of the lads were soon making out again. The sweet atmosphere post orgasm long forgotten to become more heated.

Louis took a hold on Harry’s messy curls and angled his head to deepen the kiss and made him understand what he wanted. Harry pulled back breathlessly and turned Louis around as if he weighed nothing. Louis’ face and chest were flushed against the wall, his dick hardening again in anticipation.

Before Louis could ask anything, he heard Harry moved quickly around the small closet and came back behind him as fast as he left. Grabbing Louis’ hips roughly, he slowly eased himself inside him until filling him completely. The stretch was hurting Louis a little because Harry probably didn’t have any lube with him but it felt good nonetheless, amazing even. After months with only his right hand, it was good to feel full and stretched open again. Sue the pain.

After making sure Louis was alright, Harry pulled back almost completely before slamming back into him. Groaning at the strength of his thrusts and the pleasure running through his veins, Louis was already feeling precum dripping off his dick.

His high pitched moans were the only sounds heard in the closet and he briefly wonder if some fans were still outside. He hoped not.

Harry was focused on Louis and his pleasure, biting his forearm to keep himself from moaning too loud. His eyes were tight shut, the muscles of his arms flexing and the lines of his eyebrows scrunched. He kept pounding into Louis, hard and quick, and the position started to hurt. Being squeezed between a wall and Harry's tall and broad figure was definitely not the best feeling in the world but Louis would never changed a thing.

The feeling was amazing, almost surreal. Louis couldn't be bother by anything at the moment, the simple fact that this beautiful boy was fucking him was enough to please him and he was soon close to the edge. Harry’s thrusts were becoming sloppier and weaker and Louis figured he would come soon as well.

"Harry I'm going to come."

"Fuck me too. Louis you're- you’re so tight. Oh my god you feel so good around me. So perfect for my-ah my cock."

"I want to come on your face." Louis blurted, his brain-mouth filter clearly not working anymore.

"What?

"Harry I want to fucking come of your face. Oh fuck, right there, yes. Shit yes, keep going keep going. I- I want to come on your hair. Harry please."

"Yes yes, oh god this is so hot."

Harry pulled back and Louis whimpered, the emptiness doing no good to his building orgasm. Louis positioned himself in front of the singer already on his knees, begging for him to come on his beautiful face and suddenly Louis was pushed on the edge again. Harry’s dick was curved on his belly, red and so  _so_  big -the burn in Louis' hole suddenly finding an explanation. Harry was still breathing heavily, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, like waiting for Louis to just use his body for his own good.

Louis grabbed Harry's hair roughly, not even caring about protecting those beautiful and healthy curls anymore, to bring Harry’s head closer to him. The line of Harry’s throat was just as sinful as the rest of his body and Louis couldn’t wait any more minute. He needed to come.

Right now.

Louis started to jerk himself off in earnest and after only a few strokes, he was coming hard, screaming Harry's name for the second time today.

Harry came a few seconds later, pumping on his cock at a fast pace. His face was full of Louis’ cum and if the hairdresser wasn't that exhausted he probably would have licked him clean. Many drops had landed on his curls and the pull was too big, Louis needed to touch.

When standing was too much of an effort, Louis let his limbs go weak, seating on the stool in the corner of the closet. (Usually his utilization was strictly reserved to smoke weed with Zayn, his best friend, but he was actually glad to find it there right now.)

Harry joined him with a towel in his hand and a big smile on his face. "Good thing you keep your towels here."

He slowly wiped the cum and the sweat off of Louis’ body and helped him stand to dress him up. Harry was gentle with his moves, sometimes kissing a collarbone, sometimes kissing a part of his jaw and surprisingly Louis found himself craving for more, he didn't want this to just be a hook up.

Harry’s green eyes were wide and innocent, a striking contrast to their previous activities, when they met Louis’. As if asking if all this was okay. Louis most definitely was. And even if his body would be sore for a few days, everything was actually quite alright.

 "Lou?"

"Yeah?"

"Do- Do you think we could see each other again? I still haven't told you about the real me."

"I think I know you with all the things I saw for the last hours. Really appreciated it by the way."

"I'm serious."

"I know, give me your phone number then."

"Really?"

"Really."

Today wasn’t that bad of a day for Louis at the end. The burn on his hand long forgotten and the tip finally quite worthy.

 * 

Louis and Harry met again.

They went to a cozy coffee shop at the back of a dark alley, scary at first but really nice at the end because it was calmer than any other shops Louis would considered going. It was also an essential precaution when you were a popstar apparently and Louis didn’t mind at all. Two fans came to Harry and after a few quick selfies, everything went back to normal. Louis found himself thinking he could get use to it.

The more they were spending time together, the more they learned about each other's lives. The real Harry was a lad from Cheshire who grew up with his mum and big sister. He had a stepdad and a cat named Dusty that he missed deeply when he was on tour. He loved poems and wrote all of his songs. Louis was surprised by the confession at first, not because Harry didn't seem talented but simply because the lad was still young, barely two years younger than Louis, with not that much of an experience on life.

The real Harry also loved clothes and had a quirky sense of fashion. Sometimes wearing fedoras, sometimes wearing bandanas. Louis would tell him to remove those weird accessories every single time. He had great curls, people -and mostly him, needed to see them, admire them, drool over them but he was glad Harry never listened. Louis was more than happy to remove those himself.

After a couple of weeks Harry made a move and asked Louis out. While Louis thought they would go on a proper date in a fancy restaurant, they didn’t. Louis went to Harry’s place,  _huge_  place in fact, and felt at home immediately. There was a smell of cinnamon in the air, pictures of him and his family were scattered on the walls along with some collages of him and his friends. The pictures were all black and white and simply breathtaking.

"Did you take all those pictures?"

"Yeah do you like them?"

"I really do."

A few days later, Louis’ face was on the wall as well. He was smiling brightly, his eyes crinkled in the corners and he looked happy, carefree. Louis knew he was laughing at something Harry just said.

The real Harry was a dork, an idiot saying jokes all day long. They weren't that funny but he was putting lots of energy into them so Louis decided he would laugh every single time, even if it was just to see Harry smile in return.

Sex between the two of them was amazing and Louis also wanted more and more.

When Louis first has told him about his love for hair, Harry let him pet his curls for an hour. He just lied down, put his head on Louis’ lap while Louis was on cloud nine, enjoying it so much and falling a little bit more in love with him. Harry was almost purring like a kitten and Louis understood he liked this just as much.

Later that night, Harry told Louis he had a kink for pain, loving it when his hair was pulled at.

They found a perfect balance after that and that was probably what made the sex amazing. Louis and Harry had had three dates so far and after each one of them, Harry would pound into Louis like there was no tomorrow. He would take his time to prep Louis, kissing him softly to ease the pain when he was sliding into him, biting at my thighs, neck and collarbones to make him moan even louder.

The real Harry was amazing.

 

The hair salon had gained in notoriety since 'Famous singer Harry Styles got a haircut in the popular area of London, a place to visit soon young ladies'. Fans were still a bit crazy a few days after and even came to ask for strands of hair.  _Like if I would share,_ Louis thought at the moment.

Lou couldn't believe it when Louis told her she missed Harry Edward fucking Styles, her words not his. Apparently she was a fan of the singer and when Louis told her he came to the hair salon the only day she was home, she started crying and rambling about how much she wanted to meet him and how much she loved him. She begged Louis until he was basically forced to accept. They met an afternoon at Louis’ place and Harry was kind enough to give her his number.

She sobbed on Louis’ shoulder for the rest of the night.

 *

Every good thing had an end though and when Harry's new worldwide tour was about to start Louis found myself clinging into him like a schoolgirl with a crush, seeing the love of her life leaving for college across the country. Not that Harry was the love of his life, or that Louis was so endeared that he couldn't imagine living without him. Nope.  _Not at all._

Harry noticed of course, because Harry was a mystical creature who made his way to Louis’ heart slowly but surely and noticed every god damn thing. He made dinner for the both of them every night until he needed to leave and they had passionate, slow and loving sex until the sunrise.

Louis realized he couldn't possibly let him go. 

When Harry asked Louis if he wanted to close his hair salon, the hairdresser looked at him with big wide eyes, calling him crazy and telling him this was his baby, his whole life, the thing he was the most proud of.

When Harry asked again, offering Louis to be his official hairdresser as long with Lou on his tour he cried for hours.

After saying he would follow him everywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for your support, it means a lot and i love you x
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](http://thekingstylinson.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/AyceekComics) if you want xx


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